


The Looming Fog and Other Strange Happenings

by ArsenicPanda



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, F/M, in which the Riverdale characters live in Arkham, ships are more in the background than the focus, stopping an Ancient One is a team effort guys, this sounds like horror but it's more comedy in a horror setting, well with the exception of the prologue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsenicPanda/pseuds/ArsenicPanda
Summary: Eldritch horrors are awakening in Arkham.  To call its citizens “displeased” would be an understatement.





	1. Prologue: The Looming Fog

For the past five years, Jughead Jones had loudly argued that Arkham was haunted. The words he had used were “an unholy seat of unknowable, otherworldly horrors,” but “haunted” had been close enough for most of Jughead’s friends, family, and displeased acquaintances. Betty listened to him long enough to drag him off to explore one of the abandoned houses that littered Arkham, but Betty was a better person than most and also very, very into the investigative aspects of it, so he didn’t question it.

But now that a fog loomed over the city, covering it in a pungent yet sweet stench unlike any earthly smell, and every tree bled maple syrup, it was becoming increasingly clear that Jughead was right about Arkham. And no one was happy that Jughead was right about Arkham because it meant Jughead was _smug_ about being right about Arkham. And a smug Jughead Jones was unbearable to everyone except FP, who found it endearing, and Betty, who found it one part annoying, two parts attractive.

(No one was particularly pleased with Betty either, as she had been determinedly arguing on the side of "Arkham is a city of nightmares and eldritch terrors" for a good two months now. She had the grace not to look smug, but she did have a certain “I told you so” air about her that others described as “bordering on insufferable” and Jughead considered “beyond attractive.”)

The fog was Jughead’s top concern. Low to the ground but slowly rising, it crawled over the city. It seeped into every building, filled every room with its acrid odor. Logic dictated that it should have hindered visibility, obscuring the ground, but it did no such thing. Jughead had breathed in regular fog before; it was damp and heavy, tasteless and odorless. This fog, however, was thin and dry, filling his mouth with a taste as unpleasantly sweet as its smell, and he could have sworn it had a texture, though he could not have said what it was.

The fog was unnatural, and it brought with it unnatural behaviors.

When Jughead slept, the fog filled his head, and he dreamt of crimes, some he had committed and others he had yet to. Each time, he awoke with an urge to steal, to maim, to disregard any kid of law or order as mere suggestions. And it seemed he was not alone in feeling these effects. He had no concrete proof, but crime was on the rise in Arkham, with more muggings, break-ins, and murders than ever before. A new riot seemed to break out every few days, and he feared they were only increasing in frequency.

But all of that paled in comparison to the day the first gate to an Other World opened and monsters surged out of it and into the city. As he’d watched that unearthly fog swirl tightly around the vortex, Jughead had realized that, after all this time, he finally, finally had proof he was right.  

Yet, as Jughead looked into the cacophony of light and color, permeated by what he now knew was extra-dimensional fog, his smug smile disappeared. He remembered the tales he had dismissed as too weird—too horrible—and dread consumed him, for signs now pointed to the coming of something greater: unspeakable, unfathomable, unconquerable. Something that would devour Arkham—and, potentially, the rest of the world with it.

For the possibly the first time in his life, Jughead wished he was wrong.


	2. Archie Andrews: The Story So Far

Archie Andrews's problems began when he joined the local band The Ancient One Rises as their new lead guitarist and singer. Sure, it had a funny name, but most bands have funny names if you asked Archie. Jughead thought they were Ghoulies, and Betty thought they were cultists, but Archie thought they were swell.

Archie practiced their main song regularly, although he often struggled with the odd lyrics in some foreign language. "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn," he sang every night.

One month in, his guitar began to sound funny, even painful to the ears, and he began having strange dreams of a strange city.

"Good, you hear the call now," the bassist told him.

At that point, Archie decided that maybe, just maybe, Betty was right, and he gave the band a fumbled excuse about how he had to quit the band so he could spend more time playing football.

Unfortunately for Archie, no one leaves The Ancient One Rises so easily.


	3. Archie Andrews: Call of Cthulhu

“So, what do you guys think?” It wasn’t Archie's first time playing with The Ancient One Rises, but it was the first time Betty and Jughead came to one of his practices.

“Archie, your bandmates dress like Ghoulies. You do understand they’re dangerous, right?”

“They’re just punk, Jug.”

“No non-Ghoulie would ever wear that much metal-studded leather, and that was unlike any punk song I’ve ever heard. Those lyrics were something straight out of _Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom_.”

“Jug’s right. That wasn’t English; I’m not sure it was even a human language. With everything that’s going on lately and that strange band name...Arch, do you think they could be cultists?” Betty was wearing her Concerned and Not Amused face now. Archie hated that face.

“Geez, Betty, I didn’t think you were so xenaphobic.” At this, Betty and Jughead shared a look, one of those looks that made Archie feel stupid. “Anyway, you’re worrying about nothing. They’re good guys, you just have to get to know them!”

In the upcoming weeks, Archie would regret ignoring his friends’ concerns.


	4. Jughead Jones: The Story So Far

After delivering a crate of unknown goods from some expedition for Penny Peabody, Jughead Jones began having trouble with his writing. Not trouble as in writer's block, but trouble as in sometimes he would blackout only to come to six hours later with no memory of what happened, having added to his novel pages full of gibberish. Reading those pages chilled him to the bone more than any of the myriad strange, otherworldly things he had read or written about Arkham. Amidst that gibberish, though, were names he recognized: his, Betty's, his friends'. But only one name called to him, haunted him as he slept (and he knew it was a name, though he had never seen or heard it before): Rhaivr-Dll.

In a quest for answers, Jughead broke into the Law Offices of Penny Peabody. What he found there can only be described as disturbing: records of suspicious shipments, pages and pages in the same gibberish currently polluting his novel, and a strange artifact hidden in a desk drawer, all containing that same name, Rhaivr-Dll.

He had rallied the younger Serpents to stop her from poisoning the Serpents with her dealings, but her recent return meant he needed a new solution.

Now he sits in Velma's Diner, wondering what, exactly, to do about this. He doesn't know what Penny's game is, just that he has to stop her, for good this time. But to do that, he'll need full control of himself. The secret must lie in his novel, in the writings he stole from Penny's office, in Rhaivr-Dll.


	5. Jughead Jones: The Curse of Rhaivr-Dll

At eleven on a Saturday morning, Toni found herself sitting across from Betty Cooper in Velma’s Diner and drinking coffee. “So, what’s the deal? Why come to me?”

“You’re Jughead’s smartest friend, and I thought you might actually know something about all the weird stuff that’s been happening lately.”

“—Not the highest bar to clear, but yes.” Toni sipped her coffee with a smug grin on her face.

Betty leaned in and said in a quiet voice, “I was wondering ifJughead had told you what’s going on with him. His...situation.”

“The blackouts, the weird writing, the whole Rhaivr-Dll thing? Yeah, I might have pried it out of him after he ditched me mid-Bio lab. Last I checked, he said he had it under control.”  And hadn’t that been an ordeal? Getting Jughead to talk was like pulling teeth.

Betty sighed; that probably hadn’t been the answer she was hoping for. “Well, he doesn’t.”

“And you know this because…?” Toni leaned back and raised an eyebrow. The odds of Jughead admitting he was in too deep, even to Betty, were slim.

Betty tensed, but she didn’t let her clear embarrassment stop her. “I mean, yesterday he just got up and left right in the middle of—”

Toni raised her hand to silence Betty before she heard something she couldn’t unhear. “Yeah, I get it. So, he’s being an idiot again, huh?”

“The worst kind: a stubborn one.”

“And you want me to…?”

“I’ve done some reading in the Restricted Section at Miskatonic—don’t ask—and I was hoping maybe you’d to help me stage an intervention.” She leaned forward and looked right into Toni’s eyes, giving her a smile that was somehow simultaneously anxious and hopeful.  “Convince him that we can help.”

Toni paused, considering the various ways such an intervention could go. “He might try to ditch us again…but not if I bring Sweet Pea to lean on him.”

Betty clasped her hands in front of her, beaming. There was something almost comfortably familiar about the unnatural swiftness with which Betty’s emotional state had totally transformed. “Perfect!  Let’s go.”

Toni held her hand to her heart in mock offense. “You’re not even going to let me finish my coffee?”

Before, Toni hadn’t really understood what it was about Betty Cooper that made Jughead so hopelessly lovesick over her, but, looking at the determined glint in Betty’s eyes, she was starting to.

“I’ll buy you more after we save our moody literary genius from himself.”


	6. Southside Serpents: Of Snakes and Serpents

Sweet Pea was currently between nervous and beyond pissed. Arkham had gone to hell in a handbasket, and he, Fangs, Toni, and Jones had broken away from the main group to raid the Historical Society so they could find out if the current surge of monsters had any historical precedent that they could take advantage of, and then shit went south. Specifically, a hoard of monsters had surrounded them before they could reach their destination. They had sent Fangs for help, but they had been fighting for thirty minutes now, and the odds looked increasingly slim. They stood in a circle, switchblades drawn.

“Snake people, why’d it have to be snake people?” The half-amusement in Jones’s voice pissed Sweet Pea off.

“Quips, Jones? Really?” Sweet Pea sliced at a serpent person; he drew blood, but did that stop the stupid thing? No, because that would be useful.

Jones dodged a lunging snake person and still found time to be insufferable. “It’s how I relate—”

“—Why don’t you try ‘relating’ by stabbing!”

“In case you didn’t notice, I did, and it didn’t work!”

Sweet Pea managed to get in another stab on his snake person, but still to no effect. “Yeah, same here.” He looked at Toni. “I thought our switchblades were magic now! What gives?”

“I don’t know! Maybe they have some way of resisting the magic!” Toni moved swiftly to the side as a snake person lunged forward to bite her, then kicked it solidly in the stomach. It staggered backwards, clearly reeling from the blow. “But that seems to have worked!”

It quickly regained its footing and began heading toward her again. Toni was obviously scared, but there was no way Sweet Pea could get to her before her attacker did. This wasn’t good. Three Serpents with three switchblades against far more than three snake people, and their one edge—magic—was useless.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed through the air, striking the serpent person through the heart, and it let out an unholy shriek before falling to the ground. Behind the now dead snake person stood Cheryl fucking Blossom dressed head to toe in blood red, looking like a vengeful demon. He could see Fangs, FP, and Betty following close behind.

Cheryl looked at Toni, suddenly all charm. It was sort of terrifying. “Don’t worry, _ma cherie,_ your guardian angel is here to save you.” She then glared at the serpent people, her expression changing instantly to one of total disgust. “And we’re going to teach these pathetic knock-offs what real serpents can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @elegant-force for extra betaing and the bit with Cheryl at the end. I don't know what I'd do without her.


	7. Veronica Lodge: The Story So Far

When Veronica's favorite pearl necklace broke, her father bought her a new one, an expensive antique of uncertain provenance. Two weeks later, she began to feel weak. She felt tired no matter how long she slept, she got dizzy when she stood up too quickly, and she even began to have fainting spells. Her parents took her to see the best doctors at St. Mary's, but they found nothing wrong with her. Veronica was frustrated, to say the least.

Then came the voices, haunting whispers in the middle of the night that gradually increased in frequency before spreading to the daytime as well. At first, the words were unclear, but soon she could make out some of them. "La da da da da da da," they always began.

It was on a visit to Cheryl's that Veronica received her first breakthrough. Nana Rose stared at her in that uniquely unsettling way of hers and told her that her necklace was draining her life from her. In that moment, the weight of her necklace pressed down on her, rooting her to the spot. She scrambled to take it off, but it burned her when she struggled with the clasp.

Now Veronica stands in front of the Curiositie Shoppe at Nana Rose's suggestion, hoping that she might find answers within.


	8. Veronica Lodge: The Rats in the Walls

Veronica and Jughead stood at the door to one of Arkham’s many run-down, abandoned houses. Their mutual goal was to comb the house for clues about the current happenings in Arkham.

“Veronica, you _do_ know that this house contains an unspeakable horror, right? In 1793—” Jughead had called the house the home of “The Unnamable,” but Veronica was having none of his dramatics. He could be extra on his own time; right now, they had things to do.

“—Jughead, you think _every_ house in this city is haunted by some ‘unspeakable horror,’” Veronica scoffed.

“Not _every_ house, just most of them. Do you know nothing about this city’s history?” Jughead squinted at her in annoyance, and she knew she brought him with her because of his knowledge of Arkham's weirdness, but did he have to be so _Jughead_ about it?

“If you're so worried, you can wait outside. I, however, intend to get some answers out of this place.” Veronica turned away from him and reached for the door to the house.

“No, I have my own reasons to be here. Besides, I couldn’t just let you come here alone; Betty and Archie would skin me alive if something happened to you.”

“How very Jonathan Harker of you.” Veronica smiled. “I know you would _rather_ be investigating this with Betty, but for today you’ll have to make do with a Lucy instead of your Mina.”

“You do remember that Lucy Westenra dies in _Dracula_ , right?” Jughead asked.

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to watch out for vampires. Good thing I brought my rosary.”

“Very funny.”

Veronica opened the door and cautiously led the way inside. The house was, for lack of a better word, dilapidated. Cobwebs hung in every corner, and a thick layer of dust covered the furniture. Barely any light came through the dirty windows, so Veronica took her phone from her shoulder bag and turned on its flashlight mode. Scanning the area with her phone, Veronica moved through the entranceway and into what seemed to be a common living area. The floorboards creaked under her from years of disuse, and she tried not to startle at the quiet thuds of Jughead’s boots behind her.

As Veronica stopped in the middle of the room to look for objects of interest, Jughead moved to stand beside her. On the left side of the room was a fireplace with two once-plush chairs placed in front of it, and an antique rolltop desk and chair stood against the right wall. Mostly empty shelves covered the back of the room, and Veronica could see the hint of a staircase in the back corner.

“I’ll check the shelves,” Veronica said, gesturing to the back of the room.

“I’ll take the desk.”

As Veronica crept toward the shelves, she heard a faint scratching from behind the walls. “Rats in the walls, charming.” She suppressed a shudder and pressed on.

Reaching the shelves, she examined one of the few remaining books; it was an old dictionary and completely useless to her. Behind it, though, Veronica saw a glint of light and moved her hand toward it. She felt out a small opening and, with a deep breath, stuck her hand inside. While shining her light into the crevice, she groped around until her hand made contact with something metal, a handle perhaps. She grasped it, but, as she withdrew her hand, she felt something clamping down on her fingers: something sharp and tooth-like. She yanked her hand back and relaxed upon seeing that it was only slightly scraped.

Veronica heard that scratching again, louder this time, loud enough to drown out the voices in her head, but ignored it in favor of examining the object in her hand. It was an oddly dust-free dagger with a jewel-encrusted hilt. “I found something.”

“That’s nice, Veronica, but we have bigger problems,” Jughead said, with a nervous edge to his voice. She could barely hear him over the rats.

Veronica jumped as she felt Jughead’s back bump into hers, and turned to chastise him when she saw it: a mass of rats, yellow eyes glowing, and they were getting closer.

“Time to go,” Veronica yelped, shoving the dagger and her phone into her purse and then grabbing Jughead by the wrist.

They sprinted toward the door as the rats drew closer. Veronica yanked the door open, and they didn’t stop running until they reached what remained of the house’s mailbox.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Veronica snapped, leaning on the mailbox while she caught her breath.

Jughead was doubled over, hands on his knees, as he replied, “All I was going to say is that we were almost devoured like it was _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ in there. God, first snake people, now rats. If I have to see someone’s heart get ripped out—”

“—Fine, you were right, the house was strange. But it was just rats, not some kind of unknowable…” Veronica trailed off. Jughead didn't need to know about that...whatever it was that almost bit her.

“Non-Euclidean nightmare. The phrase you're looking for is non-Euclidean nightmare.” Jughead straightened out, adjusting his beanie as he turned toward Veronica.

“I am going to pretend that makes sense so we can leave and never speak of this again.” Veronica pushed off the mailbox and stormed off to rejoin their group at the Curiositie Shoppe, determined to ignore any semblance of an "I told you so" from Jughead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh @elegant-force, what would I do without her? You can credit her with that excellent Dracula reference.

**Author's Note:**

> So the story here is that I’m modding the game Arkham Horror for use with Riverdale characters over on tumblr, and I accidentally started writing ficlets (Excerpts? Vignettes? Something to that effect) to go with them. I wanted a place to put them, so here we are. Each playable character will get two chapters: The Story So Far (which normally goes on the back of the character card) and an actual ficlet. Sets of Allies, Heralds, and Ancient Ones will also get ficlets. If you want the full mod with Investigator sheets, Personal Stories, and Items, you'll have to visit me over at arsenicpanda on tumblr because they don't belong here; the tag is Riverdale Horror, if you're interested.
> 
> For those concerned with pairings, it’s Betty/Jughead, Archie/Veronica, Cheryl/Toni, with a dash of Kevin/Joaquin in like one chapter maybe, and I’m on the fence about including FP/Alice in like one chapter tops.
> 
> Also, shout out to @elegant-force for top-notch betaing.


End file.
